


The Joy of Giving

by yellowwarbler



Category: DCU
Genre: Come Eating, Daddy Kink, Drunk Sex, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Overstimulation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-01
Updated: 2021-01-01
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:13:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28480710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yellowwarbler/pseuds/yellowwarbler
Summary: Hal's a giving guy. Selfless, really. So when he sees Kyle pining after Wally, Hal figures he'll do him a solid. It...doesn't work out exactly as planned.
Relationships: Hal Jordan/Kyle Rayner/Wally West, Kyle Rayner/Wally West
Comments: 8
Kudos: 22





	The Joy of Giving

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Kiseia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kiseia/gifts).



> This fic was written because [Kis](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kiseia/pseuds/Kiseia) is a filthy enabler 😔 
> 
> Thanks to [Mx](https://archiveofourown.org/users/macabrekawaii/pseuds/macabrekawaii) for beta reading! 
> 
> ALSO TW: vomit mention during this fic, unrelated to the porn.

Obviously Hal finds the sketchbook on accident. He's definitely not snooping. He just _happens_ to be in Kyle's quarters on Oa, and just _happens_ to knock the nondescript book off the desk. It falls open on the ground with a loud _slap_.

Kyle has not been drawing his usual anime crap.

"Huh." Hal picks it up and stares at what at first seems to be a tastefully rendered image of a man getting absolutely railed by a tentacle.

So...still _kind of_ the anime stuff.

Then he takes in the rest of the details. Red suit. Red hair. If Hal isn't losing his mind, that's Wally West Kyle's been drawing.

Hal drops the book, spooked, and steps away.

"Okay," he says aloud to the empty room. He sits down on the edge of Kyle's bed. This is fine. Kyle's hot for Wally. That's _totally_ fine. Kyle's had a hard run when it comes to love. Wally might even be good for him.

On the floor, Wally's sketched face, complete with tears and his tongue extended in the throes of pleasure, stares up at Hal. Hal stares back. He's hard, stupidly so.

And because Hal's a goddamn magnet for bad luck, that's when Kyle walks in.

____

"It's not--look, it's not like it's hurting anyone."

"Uh huh."

"It's just an outlet. An artist thing. You wouldn't understand."

"Sure, kid," Hal says. He pushes a beer at Kyle. "Whatever you say. Look, I don't care about your weird porn." 

Kyle gives him a pissy look, but he still takes the beer. Hal counts it as a win. "It's personal. I _don't_ want to talk about it." He looks over his shoulder as if expecting Guy to manifest at any moment to rag him brutally over the whole thing.

"No problem. My lips are sealed." Hal pantomimes zipping his mouth. "We've got something more important to talk about anyway."

Kyle side-eyes Hal over the rim of his glass. He takes a deeper swig and puts it down. "Do we." His tone is flat.

Hal nods gravely. "Your thing for Wally."

Kyle slams a hand on the table. "I do _not_ \--"

"Wally's a catch," Hal cuts him off. "I've known him since he was a kid. I'm your foot in the door, Kyle." He holds out a fist.

At first Kyle just looks at him like he's lost his mind. Then, resigned, he taps his fist against Hal's. "I didn't know you guys were still close."

So technically they aren't. _Technically_ Hal hasn't spent any considerable length of time with Wally since before Barry died, but they cross paths every once in a while. Kyle doesn't need all the unnecessary details, though, so Hal just says, "Yeah, we're basically family."

Kyle drains the rest of his glass in one long pull. "Wally and I work together sometimes," he offers after a long silence. "We hang out. Sometimes. I guess."

"Okay, and?" He needs to give Hal a little more than that.

"Well, I haven't seen him in a few weeks," Kyle admits. "You know how alcohol doesn't really affect him?"

"Sure."

"Yeah, well, I didn't. I got wasted with him, man. And then I tried to suck his dick."

"So it didn't go well?" Hal is kind of thrown that Kyle managed to make a move at all. 

"I threw up on him," Kyle says bleakly. "When he got up to get a towel or whatever, I went out the window."

"Wow."

"Yeah."

"Holy shit, Kyle." Hal leans back in his seat. It's early enough in the day that the bar is mostly empty, so with any luck, they won't be interrupted. Kyle clearly needs a _lot_ of help. In the spirit of giving, Hal intends to help Kyle out of the enormous cock-up he's caused himself. Hal's a nice guy like that. "Okay, no problem."

" _No problem_?" Kyle gapes at him. "It's a big problem, Hal. I can't even look Wally in the eye anymore. Before we came back to Oa, I saw him at the Watchtower and hid in the bathroom for like twenty minutes. I'm pathetic."

"Yeah, kind of," Hal agrees. "But there's no hole so deep you can't climb out of it. Trust me, I'm an expert."

Kyle mutters something under his breath too low for Hal to catch. Then, "We're heading back to Earth tomorrow. You sure you can talk me up to Wally?"

"He'll be begging for you to puke on him again when I'm done," Hal brags. 

Kyle pulls a face. "That's not even remotely what I want to do to him."

Hal waves a hand. "Don't worry about a thing, kid. You can't fail. I'm the ultimate wingman." Then he laughs. Kyle does not. "I'm a pilot," Hal reminds him. "Wingman? Pilot? No?" Kids these days. Ollie's right. Not a drop of sense or good humor in them.

Kyle isn't a complete loss, though, because when they get back to Earth he doesn't argue with Hal when he says they should go right to Central and drop in on Wally.

"We're going to surprise him," Hal insists. They'd left the others at the Watchtower to debrief. Hal told them they had a case to follow up on. Kyle kept his mouth shut. Smart kid.

They fly around Central for a good half hour before Kyle's willingness to follow Hal around without complaining wears out. "Is there a reason we're not going by his place?"

Yes, and the reason is Hal has no fucking clue where Wally lives. "I'm here for support," he says loftily. "Have you figured out where you left your balls yet?"

Kyle lets out a wordless noise filled with rage that sounds uncomfortably like something Carol would do. Then he takes off, not bothering to see if Hal is following.

Hal concludes: balls? Found.

He tails Kyle to a rundown apartment building at the edge of town. Kyle bypasses it and drops down into an alley about a block away. Hal follows him. They both lose the suits and head back to the apartment in their civvies. Hal's still in his flight suit. Next time he'll remember to wear normal clothes.

Kyle, of course, has too tight jeans a ratty black shirt on. He's frantically running his hands through his hair like he can somehow tame the birdnest on his head before Wally sees them.

"What if he's not home?" Kyle frets, staring up at the apartment building.

Hal shoves him toward the staircase. "He probably keeps a key under the mat. We'll let ourselves in."

"Nobody does that anymore," Kyle argues, letting Hal herd him up the stairs. "Wally's a hero. He's not stupid enough to leave a key out where anyone can find it."

Wally lives on the third floor. Kyle knocks on the door, and they wait. No response.

"I knew it," Kyle mutters. "This was a waste of time."

Hal crouches down. Wally's got a worn old brown doormat with a picture of a cat on the front. He vaguely recalls something similar being at Barry and Iris' place. He lifts the mat and pulls a key from underneath it.

Kyle stares. Then he grabs the key from Hal's hand. "Unbelievable."

"Told you," Hal gloats.

Wally's apartment is surprisingly bare. Hal follows Kyle inside and takes a look around, frowning. Old couch, old television, some kind of gaming system… Is Wally ever at his apartment?

"You guys hang out here a lot?" Hal asks, sitting down on the couch. It sags under his weight. 

"Not really," Kyle admits. He's in the kitchen, staring into the fridge. He closes the door, looking a little upset. "He comes by my place more. Or we meet up somewhere. Wally can be pretty private. In fact…" Kyle chews on his lower lip. Hal can't look away from the movement of his mouth. "He might not be thrilled to see us here."

Hal shakes his head, trying to dislodge the image of Kyle's tongue swiping over his full bottom lip. "Nah, he won't care."

"Hal, I don't know about this--"

"What the hell?"

Hal and Kyle both look at the door. Wally is standing there, hands on his hips. The door never opened, so Hal assumes Wally phased through it. 

Wally pulls back the cowl and narrows his eyes. "What the hell are you two doing in here?"

Kyle, panicked, blurts, "It was Hal's idea!"

"Oh, thanks a _lot_."

Wally just sighs. "No, it's fine. Actually, Kyle…" He glances at Hal, then back to Kyle. "I've been meaning to talk to you. You're a difficult guy to pin down."

Kyle looks at Hal. Hal gives him two thumbs up. "Yeah, sorry. I've been kind of--"

"Avoiding me?" Wally asks drily. 

"Yeah. Sorry." Kyle walks out of the kitchen and takes a seat on the arm of the couch. "Look, I was embarrassed. I'd spent all that time working up the nerve--"

"Shit happens," Hal offers sympathetically.

"The peanut gallery better pipe down or get out," Wally snaps, jabbing a finger at Hal. Hal obediently zips his lips. "He's right, though. It wasn't _that_ bad. And," here, Wally hesitates. "I thought it was unfair. Uneven footing, you know? So I found a solution."

A breeze hits Hal, and Wally is gone. He reappears in front of Hal and Kyle in a white tee shirt and jeans, barefoot, holding a bottle with what looks like Greek lettering on the label.

Kyle takes the bottle. "Looks fancy," he says, holding the bottle out to Hal. "But moot point, you know? It won't affect you. And I don't even care about whether you can drink or not!"

"Wait just a minute!" Hal snatches the bottle from Kyle. "I knew this looked familiar! Themysciran wine, right?" He whistles. "This stuff can knock anyone down. Dinah got a bottle once and Ollie said he'd rather drink cyanide than go through that hangover again."

Wally looks nervous. "Right, well, it's enough to affect a meta with an enhanced metabolism, too. I thought, if you wanted a do over…"

Kyle stammers. "I, well, yeah, I mean--"

"He's game," Hal sums up, slapping Kyle on the back.

The thing is… well, Hal figures he should have left when things got patched up between those two. His job is clearly done. Kyle is _definitely_ getting his dick wet. 

But he doesn't leave. No one even asks him to go.

Wally drags a chair out from the kitchen. Hal obligingly sits there and lets Kyle and Wally sit together on the sofa. First there's the drinks. Wally just keeps pouring them, keeps handing them out. Suddenly Hal is watching Wally try to climb Kyle like a tree. Kyle groans, twisting a hand into Wally's hair.

Hal puts his drink down. 

He's pleasantly buzzed, floating just enough not to question whether it's appropriate for him to watch. When Kyle shifts and drags Wally into his lap, Hal can't look away.

"Fuck," Kyle curses. He squeezes Wally's ass with both hands, grinding up into him. Wally throws his head back, groaning. Then he starts to vibrate.

"Oh, shit," Hal whimpers. He grabs his crotch, squeezing his dick through his pants. 

"Oh my god," Kyle's panting. "You came? You did, holy _shit_ \--"

"Hard to stop," Wally admits. His face is red, the color bleeding down his neck. He grabs the bottom hem of his shirt and tugs it over his head, tossing it behind the couch. "I can go a lot."

That much is obvious. Hal can tell Wally's already hard again.

"You've got to fuck him, Kyle," he can't stop himself from saying.

Kyle and Wally both turn to him. Kyle looks surprised, like he forgot about Hal. "Yeah," he agrees, dazed. "Wally, can I--"

Wally nods, frantic. He falls backward on the sofa, out of Kyle's lap, already struggling with his zip. 

Hal lifts his ring. He forms two hand constructs, stripping the pants off Wally. Wally just stares at Hal.

"Come on, Kyle," Hal urges. "He wants it. Just look at him." Hal's afraid if he stops talking the spell will break. They'll remember he doesn't belong there.

But Kyle doesn't argue. He's too busy getting his dick out. "I need--" 

Wally blurs out of sight, then back again. He's got lube. Kyle takes it and looks at Hal.

Huh. "Get him wet, kid," Hal instructs. Kyle's mouth drops open. He glances between Hal and Wally's open legs. "You need me to show you how to do it?" Hal meant to be sarcastic, but then Wally starts nodding.

"Show him," Wally insists. He's got a hand on his dick, is stroking it leisurely. He's so fucking wet. Hal's never seen anything like it.

Hal's legs feel unsteady when he stands. He sits on the sofa behind Wally and tugs him closer until Wally's back is pressed to his chest. Hal runs his hands down the inside of Wally's thighs.

"Right here," he tells Kyle, spreading Wally open. He rubs at Wally's hole with dry fingers. "Come on, kid. Work him open."

Kyle presses wet fingers to Wally's hole. He's sucking in air like he's running a race, eyes darting between Hal's face and where he's pressing into Wally's body.

"You're doing good," Hal says. 

Kyle whimpers. "D--" He bites off whatever word is caught on his tongue, eyes squeezing shut. He's beet red, fucking his fingers into Wally, his whole body shaking.

Wally's vibrating again, letting out hitching little breaths. Hal's grinding his dick against Wally, slow and firm. He wants to enjoy this. He wants to see Kyle fuck Wally, make him eat his own jizz out of Wally's ass. He wants to see Kyle cry from how good it all feels.

Hal's riding so high be nearly misses when Kyle finally breaks and says, "Can I fuck him now, daddy?"

Wally comes again, just like that, body shaking through it. Hal locks his arms around Wally to hold him in place. "Yeah, kid. Get your dick in him. I want to see."

Kyle shoves his pants down his thighs and strokes the lube over his length a few times before shifting closer. He rests the head of his cock on Wally's hole. He glances at Hal, who nods, before sliding inside all at once. 

Wally's overstimulated, still trembling. He's drooling where his face is pressed against Hal's shoulder, tongue lolling out. Hal shushes him and kisses his forehead, watching Kyle hump desperately into Wally.

"Tell him how good he feels," Hal murmurs to Wally.

Wally whines, a long keening sound, and nods his head over and over. "Kyle," he pants, "please, don't stop, fuck me harder, want to feel it--"

Kyle goes harder, faster. He's rocking Wally's body into Hal. "Daddy," Kyle keeps saying, "please, can I, _Wally_ \--"

"Where do you want it?" Hal asks, loud enough for them both to hear. "Tell Kyle where you want his come."

"Inside," Wally babbles, reaching forward to grab Kyle's shoulders, to drag him closer. "In my ass, Kyle, don't take it out--"

"I want to come," Kyle sounds frantic. He looks at Hal, pleading. "Can I? Daddy, please, can I come?"

Fuck, Hal's never going to be able to forget this. "Come, baby, let it go," and just like that, Kyle shoves in one last time and blows his load. 

Wally cries out, going tense in Hal's arms, but Hal holds him firm. Kyle shudders, groaning. He ruts into Wally one last time, then starts to pull out.

"Stop," Hal orders. Kyle freezes. "Don't take your dick out. Not yet."

Wally looks up at Hal, curious. He looks a bit clearer-headed, moreso than Kyle or Hal. But he's certainly not arguing.

Hal slides back enough for Wally's head to drop onto Hal's thigh. He strokes Wally's hair, pushing it out of his eyes. "I'm going to put you on your knees," he tells Wally, "and I'm going to fuck your mouth. Any complaints?"

"Want it," Wally says, quiet. He turns just enough to mouth at the hard line of Hal's cock through his flight suit.

"Take your dick out and put him on his knees," Hal tells Kyle. "Then I want you to clean him up."

"Clean him up?"

Hal leans over Wally and grabs Kyle by the hair, jerking him closer. He kisses him, sliding his tongue between the seam of Kyle's lips and fucking into Kyle's mouth. When Hal lets Kyle up for air, he says, " I want you to lick every bit of your come out of him. _Clean him up_ , kid."

Kyle shudders. "Yes, daddy," he mumbles, eyes glazed.

They all shift, Kyle pulling out of Wally and turning him onto his hands and knees. Hal pulls open his flight suit and gets his cock out. Wally licks the head of it and sinks down, eyelashes fluttering.

Kyle's face is pressed into the crease of Wally's ass. He's eating him out with an enthusiasm Hal didn't expect, groaning. Wally's probably dripping wet with Kyle's spit and come. Hal looks forward to seeing it.

Wally starts vibrating his throat and tongue, working Hal's cock like a pro. Hal gets a hand in Wally's hair, pulling it taut. Wally looks up at him, eyes wet and bright. Then Kyle must do something good, because Wally starts shaking _all over_ , starts riding Kyle's face. He pulls off Hal's cock with a loud cry, shooting off again.

Hal curses, using his grip in Wally's hair to force his face up. He starts jerking his cock, letting the head hit Wally's cheek. He comes so hard he bows over, shooting all over Wally's face and into his open mouth.

When Hal comes down again, he sags back onto the couch. Wally droops down, his chest on the couch, his ass in the air. Kyle is still licking, the wet squelching sounds rising above Wally's panting breaths. 

"That's enough, kid," Hal says at last. "Give him a break."

Kyle sits back. His face is soaked. Without Kyle's support, Wally's hips drop as he collapses.

"Good job," Hal murmurs, and Kyle, cock still out, shudders. He crawls over Wally's back and starts lapping Hal's come off his face.

Hal stares down at him. He's unfortunately sobering up. This was...not the plan. But Kyle keeps looking up at him, these tiny glances like he wants to make sure Hal is still there. Wally seems to have made himself comfortable on Hal's lap. It's not like Hal can _go_ anywhere.

Fuck it, he decides. Who needs to worry about the fallout? That's a problem for tomorrow's Hal.


End file.
